Reflections of a Forgotten Desire

The mirror stood in the corner of the bedroom, a few feet from the bed, its surface reflecting a scene of both age and desperate longing. She hesitated briefly, a ghost of the twenty-year-old she once was brushing against the memories of her husband taking her to bed for the first time almost forty years ago. The lines etched around her eyes, the slight sag in her skin, were stark reminders of the passage of time, yet within those features still burned the fire of a woman who remembered the intense, primal connection she once shared with the man before her. Standing in front of him, she caught a glimpse of his rising erection as his robe fell to the floor, a sudden, undeniable wave of heat spreading through her own body. She thought about how many times she had held his manhood within her as they both joined together as one, a shared intimacy that transcended the years. Age be damned, she wanted—no, needed—that connection that came when she spread her legs in welcome for his hard, heated flesh. It was a primal need, a deep-seated desire that defied logic and societal expectations.

It had been two months or so apart, a separation filled with strained conversations and unspoken regrets. The nights had been stressful, punctuated by the gnawing ache of loneliness and the frustration of not being able to fully satisfy herself. Even when she found her desire rising, she could not quell the feeling that something was missing. The heat, his weight on her as he thrust his hardened member into her, filling her wanton insides—it was all missing. She felt a deep longing to be truly consumed, to lose herself completely in the pleasure he offered. The scent of his skin, the familiar pressure of his muscles, the rhythm of his breathing – these were the things that truly mattered, the things that anchored her to the man she loved. She desperately craved that moment of complete surrender, the feeling of being utterly lost in his embrace.

She began her almost two-day journey home feeling more upbeat than she had been in a while, a flicker of hope igniting within her as she anticipated the reunion. It was always very disorienting coming home, and her emotions gave her a most unwelcoming roller-coaster ride on occasion, but she would get to see the kids and her husband. Whenever she came home, and her eyes met his at the airport, her face would break into a smile that her husband would claim was his alone. The years melted away as she saw him, the love still burning brightly beneath the surface.

Arriving at the airport, she was weary, but now less than an hour from home, she was also filled with anticipation at seeing him and being able to be held. Fortunately, she had taken a small regional jet, and the people in front of her filed out quickly. Walking into the small terminal, she caught his eye right away. The weeks and weeks of weariness fell away as “his smile” was restored to her face.

Walking out of the airport side by side with him toward the parking lot, she pondered an enigmatic thought: How does a person become so much a part of you that when the two of you are back together, you feel physically and spiritually restored in no time at all? Whatever length of time and distance had kept them apart, the spiritual reunion was instantaneous when she was taken in his embrace. The familiar weight of his body, the comforting scent of his cologne, the feeling of his hand on her waist – it was all a balm to her soul.

Walking toward the car, she updated him on the everyday nonsense that took place at work, and he updated her on the humdrum that made his time at home. Taking her considerable luggage and stacking it in the truck, he looked up at her with a conspiratorial grin. “I’ve got a little surprise for you,” he grinned as his eyes caught hers. She tilted her head, a playful challenge in her expression. “What is it? You didn’t spend a lot of money on this, did you? You know we’re getting close to having a down payment on a new house, and I can’t take this time apart unless it counts for something.” “No, Sweetie, I didn’t spend a dime. It’s just something I found when I cleaned out one of the closets,” he reassured her. “What? What is it?” she asked as her face became furrowed in her quandary. “It’s a surprise, is what it is. When you’ve had a chance to unwind and are feeling a little frisky, I’ll show you.” She let out a throaty chuckle, a hint of arousal dancing in her eyes. “Oh, you horny old man,” she teased him, as she felt stirrings within her at the thought of him wanting her in that way. “Just stay out of the spare bedroom until I get home from work tomorrow night, OK?” he pleaded, his voice thick with desire. “It’s alright, I’ll let you have your surprise,” she smiled back at him, savoring the anticipation.

The next night, she was in the kitchen with a glass of wine, the scent of garlic and tomatoes filling the air. They munched on pizza standing up in the kitchen, as was their restless custom. The small space, usually filled with the chaos of their children, felt intimate and charged with unspoken longing. Thoughts of what had started in this kitchen the last time she was back here flirted in the back of her mind. She was a little tipsy at that time when she blurted out that she would like to get paid for sex, and he had quickly produced $250 and a Christmas calendar as tender for her offer. Taking another sip from her glass, she remembered how he had promptly pulled down his zipper and produced a rapidly unfolding cock, right there in her kitchen! The heat of his touch, the roughness of his skin, the sheer audacity of the situation – it had been a moment of intense pleasure and a shocking breach of their usual routine.

Her insides stirred at the memory of the wild, wanton sex that had transpired in various rooms of the house that night. She paused in thought as she looked over her wine glass at the crotch of his jeans to see if there were similar stirrings there tonight. A shiver ran down her spine, a reminder of the raw, primal connection they had shared. She took another sip of wine, savoring the taste as she replayed the events of that unforgettable night.

“So,” she started after taking another sip, “what’s my surprise?” “Oh, you think you’re ready for your welcome home party?” He leered at her, and her cleavage that she had purposefully put on display for his viewing pleasure. She switched her wine glass from her left hand to her right as she sauntered over to him to grab his crotch to confirm her suspicions. Placing her hand on his loins and pressing against him with her body, she had very little doubt that her favorite package was glad to see her. “Well, what are we doing tonight?” she asked in a low voice. Before giving him a chance to answer, she leaned into kiss him and then slid her tongue between his lips to take her first taste of him. The world narrowed down to just the two of them, lost in the intoxicating sensation of their reunion.

His voice changed as her hand and finger tips stroked the jeans that grew tighter by the second. “I was hoping I could get you to wear that lovely blue corset that we didn’t get to sample when I came to visit you.” She let out a small moan as she considered the thought. The corset, a beautiful piece of lace and leather, had been a recent purchase, a small indulgence that she had secretly hoped to wear tonight. She felt a surge of anticipation as she realized that her husband was keen to see her in it. “Is that your surprise?” she teased him, as she felt stirrings within her at the thought of him wanting her in that way. “No,” he replied in a level tone, “but it would definitely make my day, and possibly yours too, if you would show me what those beautiful tits looked like all trussed up.” She giggled, her body trembling with excitement. “Mmm,” she considered, taking the last sip of wine. “I’ll need someone to help get me into it, and,” she added, “no playing with the girls until you get it all on me. You need to get the full effect.” This could be fun—torturing him, she mused with a smile as she poured another glass of wine to get her through the fitting.

He followed her closely as she went into their bedroom to fish the corset out of a drawer. Taking her blouse off, she turned her back to him as she unfastened her bra and reached for the royal blue garment on the bed. Lifting it over her head, she brought it down to her hips and settled her curves into the confines of the fine material. The corset, expertly crafted, molded to her body, emphasizing her curves and creating a tantalizing silhouette. It felt restrictive, yet strangely empowering, a symbol of the control she was about to exert. His hands trembled slightly as he worked to bind her securely within, a testament to his eagerness. The wine was finished at the same time as the corset, so she sent her willing assistant out of the room to fetch another glass, while she removed the rest of her clothes and pulled on the matching G-string. Before he came back, she put on her bathrobe, which paled in comparison with the lace and stitching of her new weapon of male destruction. With a satisfied grin, she tied her robe securely just as he burst through the door with her wine. Taking the slender glass from him, she could see the disappointment on his face at missing a peek at her lovely curves held securely in lace and laces. “Well, get ready, Mister. You promised me a night to remember, remember?” She assumed an expectant look as she cast her gaze on her subject. His desire was palpable as he quickly stripped off his clothes in the small walk-in closet and drew his robe around himself, then stepped out to join her. After gathering himself for a second or two, he took her hand and pressed himself against her. “You look beautiful, Sweetie,” he said as he kissed her fully on the mouth. “I mean you. You are beautiful, no matter what you’re wearing. I just love having my lovely wife back,” He pulled her in tightly and kissed her lips tenderly. “Aww, thank you, Honey. I’ve missed you, too.” She softened as they held each other tightly.

After several minutes in his arms, she pulled back to look at him fully. “So,” she started, “what’s my surprise?” “Oh, you think you’re ready for your welcome home party?” He leered at her, and her cleavage that she had purposefully put on display for his viewing pleasure. She tilted her head, a playful challenge in her expression. He sensed her hesitation and the reason for it. “Honey, it’s you I want, and it’s you that I see when we make love. It’s the ‘you’ at sixteen when we met and the ‘you’ that I brought to our bed at twenty that I hold tight and join with. There are almost 40 years of ‘us’ that we have shared with no one else, and what I want is to celebrate my lovely Sweetie, naked in all her glory before me again tonight, just as we have for hundreds of nights.” The tingling sensation between her legs now began to spread to her breasts and nipples as she considered this. Twenty years ago, maybe this would have been intoxicating, but she was having trouble getting past the idea of what her middle-aged body would do to his libido and her self-esteem. She took his hand and pressed it against her stomach, feeling his hard cock pressing against her flesh. His desire was palpable as he quickly stripped off his clothes in the small walk-in closet and drew his robe around himself, then stepped out to join her. After gathering himself for a second or two, he took her hand and pressed himself against her. “You look beautiful, Sweetie,” he said as he kissed her fully on the mouth. “I mean you. You are beautiful, no matter what you’re wearing. I just love having my lovely wife back,” He pulled her in tightly and kissed her lips tenderly. “Aww, thank you, Honey. I’ve missed you, too.” She softened as they held each other tightly.

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